


Fragments

by andthatisterrible



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-06 06:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthatisterrible/pseuds/andthatisterrible
Summary: Shoot prompt fills from tumblr.





	1. Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts on tumblr recently and as I slowly make my way through filling them all, I will even more slowly update them in here.
> 
> (note: a couple prompts were for my chaos au fic and those aren't here. after I fill a few of those they'll get their own work as part of the chaos au collection).
> 
> Everything so far (4 chapters) is G-rated, but if later chapters have rated content in them it'll be mentioned in the opening chapter notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: The pancake restaurant is full.

“Full? What do you mean ‘full’?” Shaw was up on her tiptoes trying to peer past the nervous-looking hostess into the main room of the diner.

“We’ve got a wait list, but it’s over an hour,” the hostess said apologetically. She was eyeing Shaw with concern, a grave tactical error in Root’s opinion.

Shaw probably wouldn’t do anything too drastic over not getting a table at her favorite pancake place. Probably. Root, on the other hand, was fully ready to do something drastic on her behalf, but the Machine had preemptively forbidden her to. Unfair.

“It’s Valentine’s day,” the hostess continued, eyes darting back and forth between them. At the scathing look both of them gave her for that explanation, she started inching away.

The Machine was slightly concerned now, so Root heaved a sigh and decided to pretend to be the adult here.

“Come on, we can find somewhere else. She sent me a list of alternatives.”

Shaw allowed herself to be tugged out of the diner onto the sidewalk.

“I don’t want alternatives. I want my damn pancakes.” She glared back at the closed door, furious at the betrayal.

Root patted her on the arm consolingly. “There’s a place not too far from here that has rave reviews, and She got us a reservation.”

“Not the same.”

Root couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Shaw actively sulking about something. Maybe the Machine wouldn’t notice if she went back and….

Could AI read minds? Sometimes it felt like it. Apparently a hostile takeover of the diner was not in the cards for today.

“How about we stop at the food store? Buy ingredients and make our own.” That way they could dodge the rest of the ridiculous holiday crowd.

“You’re not allowed near my stove after the last time,” Shaw reminded her, but she followed after when Root started off towards the food store.

“They’re never full,” Shaw grumbled as they walked. “I should get priority for how much business I give them.”

“We’ll get chocolate chips, too.”

Shaw sighed. “Okay.”

The resulting pancakes might not have been quite the same as the ones Shaw missed out on, but Root secretly preferred them. And definitely preferred Shaw’s apartment to some noisy restaurant full of gratuitously love-struck couples.

She spent the rest of the afternoon making sure Shaw didn’t have time to sulk.


	2. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt : Shaw gets Root a gift just cause it reminded her of Root when she saw it.

Working at the makeup counter didn’t have much of an upside, so Shaw made sure she took advantage of the few ‘perks’ she got. Notably swiping large quantities of everything she could get her hands on. Root had said that criminals were ordinary, so really she was just doing her part to blend in.

“What’s in there? Sounds exciting.”

Shaw pulled her bag out of Root’s reach before she could go poking around in it.

“Hasn’t the Machine taught you manners? No unnecessary tasings, and no poking around in my stuff.” Having Root over to her place felt like one of those risks they were supposed to be avoiding, but she’d been hanging around the store near closing time looking a little like a lost puppy.

“Manners.” Root waved a dismissive hands at the concept. “You know the Machine can record exactly how much eyeliner you’ve pinched from the store. Good thing She gave your new identity a petty larceny record.”

“Petty larceny? Dull.” But also interesting that the Machine hadn’t told Root what she’d ‘acquired’ this time. “Here.”

She fished around in her bag and dumped a bunch of the little glass vials she’d liberated from the store onto the table. When she saw Root’s eyes widen a little, she turned away and went to get a beer from the fridge.

“You stole these for me?” Root’s voice was carefully neutral.

“You always used to wear that dumb stuff, so I thought maybe you could use some refills. Not like they cost me anything.” Most of the bottles of nail varnish at the store were sensible colors, but the other day she’d stumbled on a cache of black polish and well, she’d figured, why not?

“You know I can’t wear this right now.” Root was turning one bottle over and over in her hands, as if hypnotized by it. “Doesn’t match any of my identities, and it’s precisely the sort of thing Samaritan might be looking for.”

“I know. But Samaritan won’t be around forever, right?”

Root frowned for a fraction of a second and closed her hand around the bottle.

“Well,” she said more cheerfully, “I can always paint my toenails. Much easier to hide.” A mischievous smile crept over her face. “And you’re usually the only one to see me barefoot.”

“You can do whatever with it.” Though she rather liked the idea of Root painting her toenails as a small act of rebellion. She’d been moping a lot lately.

“You steal anything else I should know about?” Root grinned in a way that promised an ending to the day that was infinitely more exciting than some petty larceny.

“Maybe. Guess you’ll have to find out.”

“A full strip search might be in order.” Root drifted over to stand in front of her, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder, playing with the strap of her dress.

“Pays to be thorough.” Shaw agreed. “Probably pays better than my lousy day job anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Root was gone in the morning, but when she showed up at Shaw’s place a week later her toenails were all neatly painted black.


	3. Lazy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: sleepy shaw

The unusual brightness woke Root up early that morning. She wasn’t quite sure what it was about the quality of the light streaming in that whispered ‘snow’ to her groggy brain, but she knew even before she looked out the window that there’d be white powder on the railings of the fire escape.

She sat up slowly, careful not to jostle the bed too much, and grabbed her phone off the night stand. The Machine would have let her know if anything important had come up, but it was a habit to check anyway. She poked around for a few minutes, catching up on all the news from overnight. 

She was startled when her phone started vibrating in her hands, an incoming call from Reese. She quickly silenced it and glanced down next to her.

Shaw was curled up on her side, facing away from Root, but she was far enough over that her back just touched Root’s leg under the blankets. Her hair was down for once, a mess of dark locks on the pillow, and one of her hands was poking out from under the covers, fingers gently curled.

Root smiled down at her and then turned back to her phone to text Reese.

“Whatdhewant?”

The slurred question made Root look back down. Shaw’s eyes were still shut, but her face was no longer relaxed by sleep.

“What did who want?” She couldn’t have known who called, could she?

“‘s Reese, yeah? Who else’d call this early?”

Well, she had a point. Root checked the text she’d gotten back.

“He’s getting breakfast on the way to the subway. Wanted to know if either of us wanted something.”

“Breakfast.”

Root waited to see if Shaw wanted to expand on that, but she seemed to have said all she was going to on the matter.

“I told him not to bother.”

Shaw’s eyes finally opened. She looked outraged. “Not to  _bother_?”

“Mmhmm, because we’re not going to the subway today, so we’re getting breakfast around here.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” Shaw’s eyes drooped shut again, but a second later her forehead creased into a frown. “Why aren’t we going to the subway, Root?”

“Because the Machine is giving us the day off.” She slid one hand down so she could rub small circles along Shaw’s back. Shaw made a content little noise and pushed back into her hand, like a purring cat being petted.

“‘s nice. But…” She was still frowning a little with her eyes shut. “Why’d’we have the day off?”

“Well, we both had a really long week.”

Shaw especially so. She’d been asleep almost before her head hit the pillow the night before.

Root dropped her phone back on the night stand to free up her other hand. “And I thought it might be nice to have a quiet day.” She reached over and kneaded her fingers into the back of Shaw’s neck. “And also it snowed.”

“Snow?” Shaw’s eyes cracked back open, and then shut again immediately. “Snow. Too bright.”

“Sorry, sweetie. Want me to shut the curtains?”

“Naaaah.”

Root held back a chuckle. She wondered if Shaw was actually awake enough that she’d be able to remember this later.

“Anyway I thought we could take Bear out in the snow later. He’d like that.”

“Bear.”

There was the sound of a tail thumping happily from the foot of the bed.

“The Machine thinks there should be plenty of other dogs out for him to play with today. She thinks She’s found some he’ll get along with.”

“Better be nice to him.”

Even mostly asleep, the threat in Shaw’s voice was obvious. A tiny yappy mop dog had bitten Bear on the nose once and Root had been forced to stop Shaw from decking the mop’s owner. She hadn’t really wanted to stop her, but the Machine had insisted. Since then, She’d been giving Root very exact instructions on when and where they should walk Bear to ensure he only met happy, friendly dogs.

“Only nice dogs for Bear,” Root promised her.

“Good.”

“But we don’t have anywhere to be soon, so you should go back to sleep.”

“Sleep,” Shaw agreed. She started to relax again, but then the frown came back. “You, too?”

Root wasn’t tired for once, but she wasn’t planning on getting out of bed anytime soon either. She shuffled back down under the covers and curled up around Shaw. It was the opposite of how they usually slept, but Shaw apparently wasn’t awake enough to care and even squirmed backwards into her.

“Sleep,” Shaw said again, and this time it sounded like an order.

“Night, Sameen.” It was very much not night, but it felt like the thing to say.

“Night.”

Shaw’s breathing evened out a few minutes later, and Root spent the morning lying with her in the snowy sunlight, watching her sleep.


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Shoot + promise

“I think it’s time for us to have a nice little chat about where you’re hiding that hard drive.” Root smiled encouragingly and prodded the whimpering man on the floor with the toe of her boot.

“I swear I don’t know anything!” Her new friend (She thought his name might be Roger? Or maybe Dennis? Oh well, wasn’t like it mattered anyway) wasn’t quite intimidated enough to spill his guts yet, figuratively speaking, but she figured threatening him with literally spilling his guts might help speed that along.

“Now, Roger…”

“My name is Frank.”

“We don’t have time for this, Roger. I’m on a bit of a schedule here, so I’m going to need you to tell me where you stashed that hard drive. This is me asking nicely.” She pulled a taser out of her coat pocket. “And trust me, you don’t want me to ask less nicely.”

“Okay! All I know is…”

A annoying little tune started blaring, cutting him off. Root made a face and fished around in another pocket.

“It’s nine already?” She silenced the alarm on her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. A little more digging around in yet another pocket produced a bundle of zip-ties.

“Okay, Dennis, I know you were about to tell me everything I needed to know, and I really  _do_ appreciate that, but we’re going to have to put that on hold for just a second.” She motioned at a nearby pole. “Put your arms around that and I’m going to tie your wrists.”

Her prisoner looked back and forth between her and the door out. Root sighed; she didn’t have time for this right now.

“If you make me take my gun out, then I get to shoot you with it. Those are the rules, Tony.”

He moved over and put his arms around the pole, sitting quietly while she secured his wrists.

“There. Much better. Now, let’s see…” Root fished around through the large pockets in her winter coat. She knew she’d put it somewhere in here.

“Oh, here we go.” She pulled a power bar out of the depths of one pocket and proudly held it up for her prisoner to admire. “I came prepared this time.”

The man whose name was probably Frank watched in utter confusion as she unwrapped the bar and started eating it.

“These things really aren’t that good. I should invest in better flavors.” She tilted her head to one side. “Is there a brand that tastes better?”

“I…don’t know?”

Root smiled condescendingly at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Probably-Frank didn’t comment further as she chewed on her snack. Very courteous of him. Maybe she wouldn’t tase him after all. Especially since the Machine had just informed her of an extremely important incoming call.

“Oh, she is? Of course I want to talk to her. Put her through. She can’t be upset. I’m eating right now!” She waited for the Machine to connect the call for her.

“Hey, sweetie. How’s it going over there?” She tapped her taser against her leg, absentmindedly.

“I’m eating right now. I set an alarm and everything.” She was very pleased with the alarm. She could have gotten the Machine to remind her, but having an alarm set on her phone was something she could show Shaw as actual proof.

“It’s a-” She looked at the wrapper. “-chocolate brownie energy bar? It’s not very good, but it’s definitely food.”

She saw a small movement out of the corner of one eye as she listened to Shaw’s response. She rounded on her prisoner, turning her taser on for just long enough to get his attention. He stopped fidgeting with the zip-ties, slumped in defeat, and glared at her.

“Sorry, Sameen. Ralph here was trying to escape. See, I’m in the middle of questioning him, but I still stopped to eat, because I told you I would, and I always keep my promises. To you, anyway.” Promises to anyone other than Shaw and the Machine didn’t count.

“My name is Frank.”

She gave an exasperated sigh and bent over to zap him once, very briefly.

“Stop interrupting, Fred. This is a very important call and you’re being rude.” She hadn’t gotten to talk to Shaw all day. She wasn’t going to let this idiot ruin it.

“I know it’s not a  _real_  dinner, but I’m out trying to track down that drive. I can’t carry around a four course meal in my pocket.”

She didn’t see what the problem was. She’d gotten the bar in some yuppie food store so it had to be healthy, right? “Well, once I’m done with George here, I’ll see if I can’t find somewhere still open to get a full meal, okay?”

On the floor, Probably-Frank was still quietly twitching.

“Is She sending you a daily update of my calorie intake?”

Honestly, they both fussed so much. It was kind of sweet.

“Is that gunfire? Did you call me from combat to make sure I’d eaten? That’s  _so_  adorable.”

Shaw’s offended response and subsequent termination of the call made her smile, but also made her ache to be back in New York. She only had two days left before she could leave, but it felt like a million years right now. Well, there was nothing she could do about that, so she might as well get on with the mission. She turned back to her new best buddy.

“Sorry about that, Roger, but I made a promise to a lady. Now-” She hunkered down and prodded him in the ribs with one finger. “-I need to get out of here in the next thirty minutes if I’m going to be able to find food with ‘acceptable nutritional value’ tonight. So, let’s talk about this hard drive.”


	5. Deck the Subway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the holiday countdown for the shoot secret santa event on tumblr.

“What's he doing now?” Shaw asked, resisting the urge to turn around and see for herself.

“Hmmm.”

Root had a clear view of the subway car and whatever madness Reese was up to from her side of the table. Supremely unfair, in Shaw's opinion, since she also had the Machine able to fill her in on everything going on.

“I think he's given up on getting the wreath to hang on the handrail. He's digging around in the box again.”

Shaw shook her head sadly and put another playing card down on one of the piles in front of her. “There wasn't even alcohol in his eggnog.”

“Some people are naturally full of holiday cheer, I suppose.” Root used a tone of voice that one might reserve for talking about being thrown in a pit full of poisonous snakes.

“Waste of energy.” Shaw looked over the layout of the cards in front of her and smirked, pleased with her game.

“Oh _no_.” Root raised a hand to cover the smile on her face.

“What? Root, what?” She could turn around and look, but then John might realize they were spying and stop doing whatever the amusing thing was.

“He's losing a fight with a string of Christmas lights. Badly.”

Shaw finally gave in to the urge and half-turned to see. Across the platform in the subway car, John Reese was working furiously to try and untangle a stand of lights that looked to be getting more and more entwined by the second. His suit was covered in pine needles from the holiday wreath (which was lying in ruins on the desk), as was his santa hat.

“He’s trying so hard.” Root sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

“You could always go help him.” Shaw turned back to her game.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Root watched her put another card down. “Sameen, I don't think that’s how you play solitaire.”

“It is if you want to win.” If playing by the rules meant losing, then the rules were dumb and needed to be changed.

Root sat up straighter. “He’s hanging the lights on Her _servers_!” she whispered, clearly outraged.

Shaw glanced over her shoulder again. “Want me to go tie him up with a strand of them instead?”

Root could absolutely do that herself, but Shaw knew how much she'd enjoy watching her do it instead. Neither of them were into holiday gifts, but this would be one she was willing to give Root.

“No, it's alright. The Machine says She likes the colors.” Root smiled at her, all sappy and sweet. “But thank you for offering. Maybe instead of tying John up, we…”

Much to Shaw's disappointment, whatever Root had been about to suggest was cut off by a crash from the subway car. Root pursed her lips.

“He fall over and end up covered in broken lights?” Shaw asked, placing another card on the table. Victory was within her grasp here.

“Looks like it.” Root stood up. “I owe him one for helping us with that mess last week.”

The mess in question had involved the tasing of a Santa in a department store, which had led to Shaw having to hold off a legion of mall security guards with a display present. Later, Reese had decked an elf. That was the type of holiday spirit Shaw could get behind.

By the time Shaw ‘won’ her game, Root had successfully rescued Reese from the aggressive holiday decorations and overseen his attempts to make the Machine's servers more festive without getting pine needles in her hardware. The entire subway car was filled with the warm glow of holiday lights and either Root or Reese had managed to mostly salvage the wreath.

Shaw wondered if John was going to put presents under the Machine's servers (he knew better than to get either of them a gift, but maybe he'd put some out for Bear. Bear deserved presents).

Since it seemed unlikely that they were getting any new numbers that night, they all bundled up to head out into the cold, Reese splitting off from them towards his apartment after a few blocks.

The temperature had dropped significantly in the last few days, and in unspoken agreement they stopped at a coffee shop to get Shaw some apple cider (which she spiked using the flask she'd tucked in her pocket for just that purpose), and Root a cup of marshmallows with some hot chocolate poured in the cracks between them.

“Storm finally started I see,” Shaw said as they stepped back outside into a flurry of snowflakes.

“It's so pretty when it's falling, and by morning it'll be turning into piles of grey slush on the sidewalk.” Root had her hands cupped around her drink, her cheeks were pink from the cold, and there were snowflakes landing in her hair.

Watching her surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, Shaw thought that maybe snowflakes were overrated by comparison. Not that she'd ever tell her that. Root was enough of a smug brat without flattery.

“Even with the storm, city is going to be a mess of tourists this week,” Shaw said instead. “Probably best to stay off the streets, numbers allowing.”

“Whatever will we do cooped up inside for all that time?” Root smiled mischievously and moved a little closer so their elbows bumped as they walked.

Back when they'd started this thing they had, Shaw would have glared and moved away, but now she'd gotten used to having Root all up in her personal space all the time. It was kind of nice; like having an extra warm, winter coat.

“Think you were saying something earlier about someone getting tied up…?”

“Maybe I should have stolen some of John's Christmas lights.”

“I'm sure we can improvise.”

They headed home together through the storm.


	6. Apples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Shoot + apple-picking

“As far as I can tell, the only threat to this guy is stepping on an apple and falling on his face.” Shaw peered through the row of trees at their number.

“I suppose a tree branch could fall on him.” Root pulled an apple from a nearby low branch and examined it. “Definitely not our most exciting mission.”

Though it was nice to get some fresh air for once, in Shaw’s opinion, an opinion she didn’t think Root shared. Root had always been a bit of a city girl, but while apple picking held zero interest to Shaw, she liked getting away from the city for a few hours every now and then.

“Maybe we should knock him out and leave him in a gas station bathroom. For his own safety, of course.” Root was still fixated on the apple she’d picked.

“Of course.” Not an unappealing idea though. “You gonna stare at that thing all day?”

“Hmmm?” Root blinked and looked up. “Just thinking.”

“About apples?”

“No, about people.”

“Uh-huh.” Shaw was used to Root not making a lot of sense sometimes. Once in awhile she pressed her for more of an explanation, but she let it go this time. “Here.”

She held up the basket she was carrying to hold the apples. It was almost empty since she had no interest in picking apples and Root’s injury limited her movement enough that she hadn’t really been picking many either.

Root dropped the apple in the basket and leaned around Shaw to spy on their number who was collecting his own apples a few rows away.

She’d been a bit mopey since she’d come back from her last mission with her arm and ribs badly bruised and a nasty gash across her side that Shaw had needed to redo the stitches on. Shaw didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she’d gotten the impression Root didn’t want to talk about it.

But she knew Root well enough now that she had a good idea of how to cheer her up.

She scooped up an apple off the ground, aimed carefully, and sent it hurtling through the air. It smacked squarely into their number’s head.

“Shaw! Why did you do that?” Root whispered in gleeful delight. Instead of waiting for an answer she brushed by her to intercept the angry man storming towards them.

Shaw watched as Root’s body language completely changed, now nervous and vulnerable, her hands twisting in front of her and her eyes downcast. The man relaxed almost at once, the anger slowly going out of him as she stammered and batted her eyes.

Shaw couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but the man gave Root his entire basket of apples before she came back. She looked incredibly pleased with herself and Shaw couldn’t help feeling a bit impressed with her even if she did roll her eyes.

“Give me that.” She took the basket from her and combined it with the contents of the one she’d already had.

Root reached to take it from her, but Shaw moved it out of reach.

“You’ve only got one good arm and you need it for your gun. We’re on a mission, remember?”

“So far the greatest threat to our number has been you, sweetie.”

True, but Root’s face was no longer closed off and tired; she looked lively again.

They continued on discreetly trailing their number in relative silence, Root occasionally picking apples with her good arm. Shaw didn’t know what the hell they were going to do with all of them. Maybe she and Reese could use them for target practice. They’d probably explode into pulp in a satisfying way.

It was a bit boring out here, but Root perked up over the next hour, dropping some of her terrible lines and going all soft-eyed and mushy whenever she thought Shaw wasn’t looking. (As if Shaw wasn’t always looking).

It started getting chillier as the day wore on, and Root insisted on lending Shaw her jacket. Shaw grumbled a bit, but she hadn’t dressed warmly enough and Root was wearing a heavy, warm-looking sweater. Also the jacket kind of smelled like her which was nice.

“She says he’s safe now.” Root sounded puzzled.

“We didn’t do anything.” The Machine didn’t give them numbers for no reason. “Did we intimidate the threat without noticing?”

Root shook her head. “She’s not saying.”

It was pretty odd though and Shaw turned it over in her mind on the drive back. Root was asleep in the passenger’s seat, her hurt arm cradled against her chest and the suggestion of a smile still on her lips.

Shaw had a sudden suspicion about why they’d been sent on this mission. Stupid sappy AI. She couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful for the assist though. Maybe she could repay her by…what did AI even want? New cables? Fancier casing for her server blades?

It was worth it, though, despite having a refrigerator full of apples for weeks.


	7. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shoot + fall

“Why are there so many of them?” There was an undertone of horror in Root’s voice.

“This is normal,” Shaw assured her. “Probably,” she added under her breath.

“Make sure Root doesn’t tase any of them,” Reese piped in over the comm.

“She won’t.” Shaw glanced sideways at Root whose entire face was twisted into the type of pained grimace Shaw normally associated with Reese. She added another ‘probably’, but a silent one this time.

“Why are they all looking at us?” Root asked in a loud stage-whisper.

“Could be because you’re staring at them like they’re plague-carrying rats.”

Root had a death-grip on Shaw’s arm, as if she intended to use her as a human shield if necessary. Normally Shaw might have discouraged Root from literally clinging to her, but the autumn air today was brisk and she hadn’t worn a warm enough jacket. Root was a wall of heat pressed up against her side.

Shaw slowed down for half a step to let a pack of unruly children all wearing white sheets run past them down the street. This part of Queens was fairly suburban with neighborhoods that allowed for real Halloween trick or treating. And the weather this year was surprisingly obligingly: just chilly enough for the correct fall aesthetic with a gloomy, overcast sky, but no rain predicted. Dead leaves skittered across the road in front of them.

“Any leads on our number, Reese?” The sooner they dealt with this the sooner she could remove Root to a safe distance before she poisoned some kid’s candy.

“Uh, he’s out with his two kids and all three of them are dressed as robots apparently.”

“We’re never going to spot them in this mess,” Shaw complained, looking out over the sea of brightly colored costumes. What type of robots were they even dressed as? Standard humanoid robots or those weird trash can looking ones that seemed so popular?

She became aware of a cold draft by her side from where her personal hacker heating unit had previously been. She came to a halt and looked around until she spotted Root nearby on the sidewalk.

“Give me a second, Reese. Root is making friends with some kids.”

“She's… What?”

Shaw ignored Reese’s alarmed mutterings and wandered over to where Root was confronting a small boy dressed as a vampire.

“…and when the real vampires find out you’ve been impersonating them, they’ll show up in the middle of the night and…”

Shaw stepped on her foot.

“What did mini-Dracula do to you?” she asked as Root flexed her sore foot.

The small vampire’s lower lip was quivering under his tiny plastic fangs.

“He asked me for candy.”

“And that was worth traumatizing him over?”

“And then he tugged on my jacket!”

The situation made a little more sense now; it was one of her favorite leather jackets. Root’s lower lip was stuck out in a way that was comically similar to the small child’s.

Shaw sighed. Why was nothing ever easy? She turned slightly to the side and grabbed the arm of a passing trick or treater.

“Hey, watch it!”

This one was clearly in his late teens and only wearing a shirt with a ribcage design on it as a costume.

“Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” she asked. She snatched his candy bag.

“Hey!”

Shaw leveled a flat stare at the kid for a long moment. The kid swallowed hard and then held his hands up and backed off. “I don’t want any trouble, lady.”

“Next time actually put on a costume,” she called after him. She turned around and presented the confiscated candy bag to the small vampire whose entire face lit up.

“Now scram, kid.”

The kid scrammed, looking back over his shoulder once or twice as he darted away.

“Can we go now?” she asked Root.

Root still looked a little sullen, but she allowed Shaw to steer her back towards the road.

“If you two are done threatening small children, I think I have a lead on our number,” Reese said over the comm.

Root reattached herself to Shaw’s arm as they headed towards the location Reese had given them.

“Thought Halloween would be right up your alley, somehow,” Shaw said.

Root shrugged. “I pretend to be other people all the time. I don’t need a special day for it.”

The street they were on now was a lot emptier, but up ahead Shaw could see a man with two small children by his side, all dressed as stunningly unoriginal looking robots.

“That must be them.”

“And there are our perpetrators.” Root nodded towards the other side of the street where three large men who hadn’t bothered with costumes were headed towards their number.

“They look armed,” Shaw said. She rolled her shoulders back and cracked her neck. “I was getting bored anyway.”

The first man she hit in the face with a bag of candy she’d snatched from some kid on the way across the street. While he was recovering from taking a massive quantity of chocolate bars to the face, she took out his leg with a sharp kick, and followed up with a knee to the stomach and an elbow to the back of his head as he fell.

The second guy had his gun out already, but he’d gotten too close trying to help out his buddy and Shaw took it away from him with ease.

In the background she heard Root’s taser go off which meant the third guy was accounted for already. She punched her current opponent in the face a few times before kicking out his legs from under him and letting him fall under his own weight.

After she finished disarming the fallen men she looked up to find they had an audience. Three small children were standing nearby watching them with huge eyes. Root came to stand next to her, eyeing the children with suspicion.

“What’s that?” One of the children asked, pointing.

Shaw followed where he was pointing. “That’s a taser.” Why hadn’t Root put it away yet?

“Oh.” The child considered this for a moment. “Can I have it?”

“No.” Root’s eyes had narrowed.

“Oh,” the kid said again. Then: “Can I have it,  _please_?”

Shaw took one look at Root’s face and started moving away, pulling Root after her. “Maybe when you’re older, kid.”

“Your number got away safely,” Reese reported. “Now just get Root out of there before she becomes a perpetrator.”

The fact the Machine had initially specified that Reese was supposed to go with her on this mission and not Root made a lot more sense now. Reese had just had to go and sprain his ankle, though.

“Well, that was exciting,” Root said as they headed towards the nearest subway station.

“I guess. Only three guys and they knew jack shit about fighting.”

A cold gust of air blew through, leaves flying all around them. Shaw shivered despite herself.

“Someone should have worn a warmer coat,” Root pointed out. But she looked rather pleased and immediately moved back into Shaw’s space as much as possible and pressed up against her side.

Shaw fished around in her pocket and pulled out a slightly smushed candy bar she’d taken out of the bag she’d used as a weapon earlier.

“Stole you a snack.”

“You got chocolate for me, sweetie?”

Shaw rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. It was a squashed milky way, not a heart-shaped box of chocolates or something equally nauseating.

And she had five for herself in her other pocket.

“I know a way we could warm up later,” Root said, playing with her candy bar wrapper.

“Oh, yeah?” Shaw was definitely down for what Root’s tone was implying.

“Mmmhmm. We could even do something Halloween-themed, like…”

“Can you please turn off your comm?” Reese sounded like he was in pain.

“Turn your own comm off,” Shaw grumbled, but killed the line. “What were you saying?”

They headed back home through the swirling leaves.


	8. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shoot + talking about scars

“Okay, what about this one?” Root ran her hand down Shaw’s side to poke at a raised, rough patch of scar tissue.

Shaw chuckled. “Really?” There was a certain irony in Root asking her about that scar.

Root shifted next to her on the bed, as if unsure why Shaw would find it funny. “Yes, really. Why, did you accidentally shoot yourself in the gut?”

Shaw snorted softly at the implication that she would ever do anything that immensely dumb. “I got that the night before we first met. Wilson, the idiot I reported to in the ISA, clipped me when I was running off. Had to dig the bullet out of my side myself.”

“I didn’t know you’d been shot, “ Root mused. “You certainly never let on. And I dropped you on the floor. How terribly rude of me.”

“Uh-huh. I bet if you’d known it would have changed all your plans, huh?” Fat chance.

Root’s eyes danced with mischief. “Well, I might have put a pillow on the chair before I tortured you.”

Shaw only chuckled again. Her hand vanished under the covers and traced down Root’s side, but instead of going anywhere exciting ended up by her knee. She ran her thumb across the faded scar on the outside of Root’s knee. “This one looks pretty old. Lose a fight with a tricycle?”

Root smiled a little distantly and intercepted Shaw’s hand to pull it back up and drop it on her hip. “A bike actually. I was fourteen.”

“Ah.” There were huge parts of Root’s past that were still unknown to Shaw, but she knew enough about what had happened around that time to leave well enough alone.

Which was why she was surprised when Root continued.

“It was strange. I felt so…powerful? Invincible, almost. None of the rules of the world applied to me and yet there I was taking a spill off my bike and scraping my entire side open on the concrete.” Her smile got a little more solid. “Turns out gravity doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve done.”

Shaw ran her thumb over Root’s hip. “So you were daydreaming about your glorious future as a hacker-assassin and biked into a ditch?” Sounded like Root

“Hmmm, not exactly. It was a crappy bike, all rusted and noisy. The treads on the tires were almost completely worn down, so all it took was a little patch of wet leaves and….” Root shrugged and rolled over onto her back. She tugged on Shaw’s arm to pull her after and Shaw willingly followed to lie down on top of her.

“What’d you do?” she asked, intrigued by the mental image of kid Root taking a spill off her bike while her head was in the clouds.

Root pulled her down for a lazy kiss before she answered.

“Got up and walked home. What else would I have done?”

She could almost imagine teenaged Root, limping home on her own covered in blood and dirt. Most kids would have gone to an adult for help if they’d been hurt bad enough to leave a scar like the one on Root’s knee, but neither of them had been most kids Shaw figured. She didn’t think she should say that out loud though so she settled for leaning down to bite lightly at Root’s neck instead.

“I did leave the bike in a ditch,” Root said as she wound one hand into Shaw’s hair. “Punishment for its betrayal.”

“I bet that taught it a harsh lesson.”

“It clearly didn’t know who it was dealing with.”

Shaw kept herself busy at Root’s neck and waited to see if there was anything more coming. After a few minutes of lazy making out, Root finally continued.

“I wasn’t…it was complicated? How I felt at the time? On the one hand, I felt like I could do anything I wanted, but on the other, I was so angry because, well, because what I did was supposed to have fixed…something. I’m not sure what.”

Shaw looked up, but Root was staring away, avoiding eye contact. So Shaw lowered her head back down to nip at her collar bone.

“But I didn’t feel any better after. I still felt angry, and a little hollow.”

“But also invincible.”

Root smiled and turned her head back to look at Shaw again. “I’ve never claimed to make sense, Sameen.”

“Would be boring if you did.” Though she thought that Root made a lot of sense in some ways.

“It was a bit like a drug, feeling so powerful, so in control. Still is, I suppose.”

“And you got a cool scar to commemorate it.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” Root sounded a little distant again.

“How do you look at it, then?” Shaw asked. It was probably about time to move on from what was obviously a complicated topic, but she was curious. Root saw the world so differently from her on some things and she felt like she needed to understand those differences, learn Root better.

Root’s fingers stroked through her hair once and she tilted her head to study Shaw. “I think I like how you see it better.”

It wasn’t the answer Shaw had asked for, but she felt strangely satisfied by it. It was a good place to leave things for now.

“Well, the way I see it, we’ve got to get up in an hour, so.…”

Root’s face twisted into a fake pout. “But it was my turn to ask.”

“I’m make it up to you,” Shaw said, moving down her body.

And she did.


	9. Root's Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoot prompt - Root just having lost her hearing in her ear and having trouble, with Shaw helping in her own way

The third time Root’s hand strayed up to her right ear, Shaw grabbed her wrist.

“I told you already. Stop. Touching. It.”

Root’s expression would have qualified as petulant if she hadn’t looked like a damn ghost. It’d been two weeks since Shaw had left her lying in a hallway with a bullet in her arm. Two weeks since Shaw had spent the better part of a day tearing the city apart looking for her. And then it’d been another whole day after that before anyone had bothered to tell her that Root was okay.

She’d briefly entertained the idea of calling her then, but she didn’t even have a number for her. And what would she have said?

Shaw realized she’d been standing there in her kitchen–only a breath away from where Root was leaning on the counter–holding Root’s wrist for the better part of a minute. Root’s eyes were a bit wide, but her face was unreadable.

Shaw slowly released her wrist with a warning look, and stepped back to put a safe distance between them.

Root kept her hand half-raised in mid air for a long second and then very deliberately rested it on the countertop next to her, palm pressed down and fingers splayed.

“Sorry. Must not have heard you.”

Root’s words were mocking and a little angry, but the anger wasn’t directed at Shaw. Shaw wasn’t sure who it actually was directed at.

They stood in the kitchen staring at each other. Root’s fingers curled and uncurled endlessly against the countertop.

Shaw looked away first. It was better when Root was being her usual obnoxious self–made it much easier for Shaw to tell what Root wanted from her. But she didn’t know what to make of this angry, brittle version of her. It would have been all too easy to kick her out now, but the wary, resigned way Root was looking at her told her that Root probably expected her to do just that.

“Did you eat yet?” she finally asked.

* * *

 

“Did the Machine tell you to let us leave without you?” Shaw asked.

Next to her on the couch, Root poked at her food with a fork, pushing it around her plate in circles.

“Back when Hersh shot you, I mean,” Shaw added.

Root stabbed a carrot and held it up in front of herself, inspecting it closely. “She told me the elevator code. Nothing else.” The carrot apparently didn’t meet her approval because it got lowered back onto her plate uneaten. “Sometimes She tells me what to do, and sometimes She only gives me bits and pieces of information and let’s me choose what to do with them.”

“Not the best time for it to ghost on you.”

“She tried to…. She can’t do everything.”

Root didn’t sound happy to admit that, and Shaw was a bit surprised that she had. She still didn’t know all the details of what Control had done to Root, but she got the impression that Root had been shaken by the ordeal.

“She apologized.” Root’s voice was very quiet, her eyes fixed on her unfinished dinner.

“The Machine apologized?” It was odd thinking about the Machine as an actual sentient being. Finch never talked about it like that and she’d never thought too deeply about it until Root had started spouting off annoying facts in the car that day when she’d kidnapped Shaw. Root talked about it like it was her god one second and her friend the next.

“She couldn’t stop Control from….” Root’s hand half-rose towards her ear again, but she stopped herself before Shaw intervened. “It doesn’t matter though. I can still hear Her. And I can still help Her.”

Shaw was a bit annoyed by that statement, but she couldn’t think of a good reason she should be annoyed so she decided to change the topic to something safer.

“Are you actually going to eat that?”

Root had mostly stabbed and mashed everything on her plate instead of eating it, and while Shaw didn’t care if she starved she was insulted to see her cooking being disrespected.

“I guess I’m not that hungry.”

Shaw sighed. “Why’d you come here tonight, Root?”

“I don’t know.” It was half-whispered almost like a confession.

Whatever this was, it was complicated, and Shaw avoided complications at all costs, but the thing was that Root wouldn’t have had that nasty cut behind her ear if she hadn’t shown up to save their lives and while Shaw wouldn’t have  _felt_  bad dumping her out on her ass, she’d decided it wouldn’t be right to.

But that didn’t mean she had any idea what to say to her.

She left Root moping on the couch while she cleaned up the plates from dinner.

“Here.”

Root looked up at the bowl Shaw handed her.

“Ice cream? Even though I didn’t finish eating my vegetables?”

Shaw rolled her eyes, but Root was smiling now and while chocolate ice cream wasn’t great on nutritional value at least it was some sort of calories. It wasn’t like she really cared, but it’d be inconvenient if Root passed out from low blood sugar or something.

She watched in silence while Root demolished an entire bowl of ice cream and licked the chocolate off her fingers after.

“You know I went to med school.” It was a statement and not a question because she knew that Root had snooped on all snoop-able facts about her life. “There’s options for injuries like that. You can…”

“It’s sweet that you care, Shaw, but I’m fine.” Root’s tone said the conversation was over.

Shaw wasn’t sure if she was more put out by the implication that she cared or by Root’s refusal to lift a finger for her own well-being. Which Shaw didn’t care about. Obviously.

Fuck.

Root put her spoon down in the empty bowl. “As long as She still needs me, it doesn’t matter what else happens.”

“That sort of attitude will get you killed in this line of work.”

“It hasn’t yet.”

Shaw leaned down to take the bowl back and Root’s fingers circled around her wrist.

“Ask me to stay.”

Shaw pulled away and carried the bowl towards the sink. “I don’t do sleepovers.”

“Neither do I.”

A glance back at Root and her suggestive smile and raised eyebrow confirmed Shaw’s suspicions of what Root had really been asking. And yeah, it was tempting because the CIA safe house had been glorious, and Shaw definitely wasn’t opposed to a repeat, but she kept her sex life out of her apartment because otherwise it might get weird if one of her one night stands got clingy. Better if she could vanish after.

But Root already knew where she lived and even if Shaw had been willing to abandon her loft for a new place she knew Root would probably track her down again in no time.

She walked back to the couch. Root hadn’t moved at all, waiting for her to make the next move. She had dark circles under her eyes, Shaw noted. She wondered where Root slept these days.

She made a decision.

“Wait here.”

“You have a surprise for me, Sameen?” Root called after her.

Shaw knew what sort of surprise Root had probably meant, but the very real surprise on her face when Shaw dumped a pile of blankets on her lap was very satisfying. Root might think she knew everything, but she hadn’t seen this one coming.

“You can sleep on the couch. Tonight only.”

Root stared at the blankets blankly for a second and then blinked and composed herself. “And what about…?” She attempted to wink.

“Maybe in the morning. I’m beat.” It wasn’t that she cared that Root looked too tired for the sort of fun she had in mind, it was just that…. Whatever. Let Root think what she wanted.

She woke up in the morning to find Root long gone. Shaw’s pint of chocolate ice cream had been finished off and the empty container left on the counter. There was an unwashed spoon in the sink. Pinned underneath the empty ice cream container was a note:  _Sorry, sweetie, had to run. Thanks for dinner. See you again soon._

Shaw threw the container and the note in the trash and washed the spoon. She went over to the couch to fold up the blankets Root had left in a tangle on the floor. She started carrying them to the closet and then changed her mind and put them back on the couch in a neatly folded pile at one end. Just in case.


	10. Holiday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as part of the shoot secret santa 2018 countdown. Shaw has to go to a company holiday party and bring a date.

The worst part of Samaritan coming online, in Shaw's very unbiased opinion, was that there were actual serious consequences to some very simple actions that there never had been before. She didn't, to choose a completely random and theoretical example, want Reese and Finch to get killed because she shoved her supervisor into oncoming traffic. It was a very unfair situation.

“A what?” she asked the horrible man who she wasn't allowed to throttle.

“The company holiday party, sweetheart. It's tomorrow evening. Our way of saying thank you to all you employees for your hard work.”

Shaw doubted that someone as unimportant as a junior supervisor in the cosmetics department had any say in giving other employees a holiday party. Not important enough to plan a party, but just important enough to ruin her day.

“I'm busy tomorrow.”

“It's a mandatory work event.”

Shaw's eyes narrowed. “I'm...sick.”

Her supervisor looked her up and down. “You don't look sick.”

“About to be sick. Any moment now. And definitely tomorrow night.” This would be so much easier if she could break his nose. He didn't even have the decency to own a car that she could have slashed the tires on for a bit of stress relief, and there were only so many times she could steal his metrocard before it stopped cheering her up.

Her supervisor sighed and straightened his glasses. “Very amusing. Now you're to be here tomorrow evening at 8pm. No excuses.”

Shaw thought her day couldn't get any worse than that, but as he was walking away her manager turned back and added, “Oh, and you'll need to bring a date.”

* * *

Shaw ripped the paper off her sandwich. “This has to be illegal.”

“Which part, making you go to a party, or making you bring a date?” Reese asked.

Shaw slapped his hand away when he went for one of her fries. “Either? Both? Some part of it is illegal.” She paused, fry halfway to her mouth. “You're a cop now.”

“I'm not arresting your boss.”

“I don't think he's the one who planned this party.”

“I'm not arresting the owners of Macy's either.”

“It's not a--” Shaw gave up. “Well, you're going to have to come with me then.”

Reese froze, hand halfway to the fries again. “Me? Why me?”

“I can't very well take Romeo.”

Reese scowled, visibly unnerved by this change in course. “You're not even supposed to know me.”

It was a fair point (and why they were eating lunch together in the subway where no one could see them), but since this entire situation was unfair Shaw didn't much care.

A devious smile spread across Reese's lips and Shaw's eyes narrowed.

“Have you seen Root lately?” Reese asked, innocently.

Shaw was genuinely confused by this change in direction. “Root? Not for a week or two, why?”

“You needed a date to this party, and…” Reese's smile was a smirk now.

“Root is not going to be my _date_ , we do not...we don't do that.” She'd biked across a cesspool of a state to save Root's dumb ass _once_ and now everyone thought it meant all sorts of things that it definitely didn't mean.

“Whatever you say, Shaw.”

Reese was limping rather badly when he left the subway later, but Shaw felt a little better.

* * *

Shaw wasn't at all surprised to find Root waiting for her at her makeup counter when she got back from lunch. The nosy AI she worked for had probably sent her here to keep Shaw from murdering someone to get out of this party.

“I hope you're making some real progress with your super secret war on Samaritan,” Shaw snapped as she walked behind her counter. “Progress, as in the two of you will have blown it up before tomorrow.”

“Good to see you, too, sweetie.” Root picked a tube of lipstick up off the counter and toyed with it. “What's happening tomorrow?”

“What, like you don't know already?” The Machine must have told her and now she was here angling to tag along and embarrass Shaw in front of her coworkers.

Root smiled enigmatically. “Humor me. What's happening tomorrow?”

Shaw stared at her for a moment, trying to determine if she was stringing her along with the whole pretending not to know thing. But Root didn't look like she was hiding anything--she just looked tired.

“Nothing. Just a stupid thing I have to do for this dumbass cover identity.” She glanced down the aisle to make sure her manager wasn't watching. The last thing she needed was that annoying little cockroach noticing that Root was a frequent customer. “Why _are_ you here then?”

“Just checking in. Making sure you're not doing anything to break your cover.”

“Well, I'm not. Unfortunately.”

Root nodded absently. “How's the petty thievery going?”

“Shouldn't you know all this? I figured the Machine would be giving you hourly updates or something.” There was something else going on here, Shaw was sure. If she hadn't known better she would have said that Root looked _sad_ , but that couldn't possibly be right. “Is something going on, Root?”

Root set down the lipstick with a decisive _click_. “Sorry, sweetie. Have to run now. Be good.”

Shaw watched her walking away. She wasn't even prancing like she usually did on visits here.

Shaw cursed under her breath.

“Root, wait.”

* * *

Shaw bruised Reese's other shin when he made a snide comment at lunch the next day. It was none of his business who she took to a stupid party for a stupid cover identity. He kept smirking anyway.

* * *

“That's what you're wearing?” Shaw asked.

Root smoothed the green dress over her hips. “It's a party, Shaw. Generally one dresses up for parties.”

Shaw had chosen to wear jeans and a casual shirt and jacket (all black, of course). If she had to go to this thing, she intended to be comfortable.

“I'm not putting any more effort into this bullshit than I have to.”

Root looked nice though, she could admit that much.

“How bad can it be?” Root asked. Somehow she'd moved from a respectful distance away on the sidewalk to walking in Shaw's personal space, but Shaw decided not to say anything about that. _Not_ because she enjoyed the line of warmth that was Root by her side or anything. No, it would just encourage Root if she told her to knock it off.

“It's a mandatory company party in the store we work in all day thrown by a bunch of greedy corporate overlords. How could it _not_ be bad?”

“Point taken.”

The inside of the mall Shaw's store was in was much warmer than the winter air outside had been and she took a minute to enjoy the change before heading to the escalator.

Root was quiet on the ride down to the lower level. She leaned against one side of the escalator and looked out over the abandoned mall.

“What's with you lately?” Shaw asked.

Root arched an eyebrow at her. “What's with me?”

“Yeah, you're--” Shaw didn't know how to describe it. Moping? Sad? Unusually quiet for sure. It was none of her business, though. “Never mind.”

Shaw let the silence stand the rest of the way down.

“Well, this is festive,” Root murmured when they stepped into the store.

The store was exactly the way Shaw had last seen it when she'd clocked out earlier: an unending mess. Holiday shoppers were the worst.

“Ah, good, you're here.” It was her annoying supervisor, appearing out of nowhere like an especially persistent mosquito. “Just in time to help clean up for the party.”

“Seriously?”

The true purpose of the party quickly became apparent--unpaid labor to clean up the store. She thought about walking out right then, consequences be damned, but instead she gritted her teeth and smiled at her supervisor in an unfriendly way until he cleared his throat nervously and left.

“The world already sucked without an evil AI. How much worse can Samaritan really make it?”

Root smiled, her first smile of the night, and leaned down so her lips were almost against Shaw's ear.

“I love it when you're optimistic, sweetie,” she murmured. “How about a little incentive to play nice and be exploited like a good little gear in the capitalist machine?”

Only Root could talk about the evils of capitalism in a husky voice and make it work.

“What sort of incentive are we talking?”

“It'll be a surprise.” Root's lips brushed the shell of Shaw's ear for a fraction of a second.

“Fine. It better be worth it though.”

Root, Shaw realized almost immediately, had no intention of helping. Instead, she perched elegantly on the edge of one of the counters and idly rummaged through the merchandise. Shaw's supervisor came over, probably to try and force her to help, but Root fixed him with a withering stare that made him scuttle away. Shaw smirked to herself as she discreetly kicked the contents of an overturned display behind a counter.

Once the store was reasonably tidy, the ‘party’ began. There was one bowl of punch and a few plates of cookies that looked stale. Tinny Christmas music played over the store speakers.

“The Machine owes me big time for this,” Shaw grumbled as she leaned against the counter next to Root.

“I'm sure She'll make it up to you when She can.”

“And when will _that_ be?”

Root fell silent again and understanding dawned on Shaw. She felt dumb for not figuring it out sooner. She considered pressing the subject, finding out exactly how little Root could communicate with the Machine now, but something about Root's previous lack of response stopped her. If Root wanted to discuss it, she'd have talked Shaw's ear off already.

Around them, the train wreck of a party continued to unfold. Shaw's supervisor was noticeably drunk (he must not have realized that Shaw had spiked the punch) and wearing a grimy santa outfit. The other employees were all in various states of intoxication and all had the grim looks of people trying very hard to survive the next few hours. The highlight of the next half hour was tied between someone locking inebriated supervisor-santa in a stock room, and when Gary from menswear threw up in a fake plant and then passed out in the aisle.

Shaw watched Root out of the corner of her eye, and while Root definitely looked maliciously satisfied at the fall of Gary (and Shaw was almost positive she'd somehow been behind her supervisor’s incarceration, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out _how_ ), her heart didn't seem to be fully in it.

Neither of them had budged from the counter Root had taken up residence on, especially since Shaw had kept most of the flask she'd used on the punch for herself. They passed it back and forth every few minutes and by the time it was gone Shaw felt warm and slightly tingly with just the right amount of a buzz. She didn't even bat Root's hand away when she pulled the bottom of Shaw's shirt out of her pants in the back so she could brush her fingers along Shaw's skin. It felt kind of nice and nobody at the stupid party was watching so why should it matter?

Three times one of the others came over and attempted to make conversation. Root sent the first two away deeply regretting their attempts to mingle, but the third person she just tuned out and ignored until Shaw had to growl at him to shove off.

“You must be very popular here,” Root mused as she watched Henry from sportswear beat a hasty retreat.

“They don't pay me to be nice to my coworkers.” Shaw snuck another glance at Root out of the corner of her eye. She looked about as done as Shaw felt, and even though this was the sort of situation where Root would usually turn things excitingly violent or at least orchestrate an escape for them, Shaw had a feeling Root wasn't going to this time. She wondered if maybe this whole charade bothered Root even more than it bothered her.

“Let's get out of here,” she said.

“Aren't you required to stay til the end of this farce?”

“Bathroom break. Come on.”

Shaw didn't take them to the bathrooms though. Instead she led Root to the elevator and punched the button for the top floor. Once there, she headed to the back staircase she'd discovered while snooping around and easily picked the look. Being a petty criminal had its advantages if it meant getting away with stuff like this without alerting Samaritan.

She breathed in deeply when she pushed the door to the roof open. An hour ago she'd been glad to get out of the cold, but now it felt like freedom.

“Needed some fresh air,” Shaw explained even though Root hadn't asked for an explanation. Shaw liked that about her, that she so rarely required explanations for things Shaw did. It was sort of freeing.

They both walked over to the edge of the building in unspoken agreement to look out at the city around them. There were strands of little white lights hung everywhere making the whole city glow softly.

It was windy on the roof and the cold air cut right through Shaw's clothes and made her teeth chatter. Root must have been freezing in that dress, and upon a brief, surreptitious inspection Shaw noted she was definitely shivering.

“Heads up.” Shaw gave Root less than half a second of warning before tossing her jacket in Root's face. She glared when Root looked like she was about to comment on the gesture. “Next time wear something with sleeves.”

“I did, but it's downstairs because you didn't tell me we were coming outside.”

Fair point, but Shaw wasn't about to acknowledge that. “Thought you were supposed to be clever. You could have figured it out.”

“I suppose there's always room for improvement.” Root slipped her arms into the jacket and wrapped it tightly around herself. “Aren't you going to get cold now, Shaw?”

“I don't get cold.”

“Really.” Amused disbelief hung on the word.

“Yeah, really.”

She pretended not to notice when Root inched close enough that their sides were pressed together. Clearly Root was just still cold and trying to steal her warmth.

“You have plans for the holidays?” Root asked after a couple chilly minutes of gazing out at the city around them. “Other than murdering your coworkers, I mean.”

Shaw snorted. “Holidays aren't my thing.”

When Root didn't say anything else Shaw wondered if she should follow up on the question.

“Uh, what about you?”

“That's not clear yet, but She'll let me know.”

“Well, you can--” Shaw paused, unsure what she'd been about to suggest.

Root tilted her head to one side, curious. She almost looked like herself again for a second. “I can what?”

“Uh, nothing. Wanna go give me that incentive you mentioned now?”

Root chuckled and led the way back to the door. “Let's get you all warmed up again, sweetie.”

* * *

“So how was your date with Root?” Reese asked around a bite of the sandwich which might be his last meal as a living man if Shaw had anything to do with it.

She threw a ketchup packet in his face.

“It wasn't a date.”

“What was it then?”

“A...mission, to help keep my identity intact.”

The ‘mission’ had ended with them using some ties in the menswear department for purposes other than their intended use, which had gone so well that they'd decided to continue things back at Shaw's apartment.

Shaw had woken up in the middle of the night to find that they'd both passed out before she'd had a chance to kick Root out or at least banish her to the couch and that Root was still on the other side of the bed, cocooned in almost all the blankets and about as deeply asleep as Shaw had ever seen her. She’d thought about waking her up and sending her to the couch, but then she'd thought about the dark circles under Root's eyes and how happy she'd looked when Shaw had invited her back that night.

In the end, she'd let Root sleep undisturbed and had gone and gotten herself more blankets since Root was a cover hog on top of all her other failings.

Root had still been sound asleep when Shaw had gotten up to go to work, and after some deliberation Shaw had decided to let her stay that way. At least one of them would be well rested.

“Just a mission,” Shaw reiterated before diving back into her sandwich.

“A mission,” Reese repeated. “Right.”

She threw another ketchup packet at him.

* * *

Root was standing at the kitchen counter when Shaw got home from work (it had been a short work day since it was Christmas eve). She looked up from the note she was writing when Shaw came in.

“I was on my way out. Sorry I stole your bed. I must have been more tired than I'd thought.”

“Wasn't a big deal,” Shaw said and was surprised to realize that she meant it.

“Careful, Sameen, or I might get the impression that you like having me around.” Root smiled and her eyes were mischievous and lit up the way Shaw remembered them usually being.

Shaw scoffed for the look of things and kicked off her shoes and jacket. At least she didn't have to work for the next day and a half.

“You off to save the world?” she asked as she watched Root gathering her things.

“Something like that.”

Shaw was getting the hang of when Root was being cryptic and when she was just lying to cover up for not knowing something.

New York City had been in the process of shutting itself down when Shaw had walked home. Not completely, of course, since it _was_ New York after all, but most of the shops had been shuttered and people on the streets had been hurrying home rather than heading out. The city streets would be about as quiet and empty as they ever got by nightfall.

She thought about Root wandering around the empty streets by herself in the cold with only the absence of the Machine to keep her company. She scowled as she watched Root open the door to leave.

“You could--” She hesitated, because even though she was sure, it still felt weird.

“Shaw?”

The tiny hint of hope that Root hadn't quite been able to hide from her voice freed Shaw to act. She walked over and firmly shut the half-open door.

“Don't make a big deal out of this.”

Root smiled and Shaw turned away, feeling slightly _embarrassed_ of all things. This was why Root was such a pain in her ass.

“And don't make a mess either. And this is only until you get a new mission or something, okay?”

“Of course, Sameen.”

Root was back to being her irritating self for the remainder of her stay, and, when she vanished the day after Christmas, she left everything in a mess anyway. Shaw sighed and set about restoring order to her apartment. Root had better come back soon and in one piece so Shaw could yell at her.

Halfway through cleaning, Shaw found the note that Root had left on the counter. The one she'd half-written a few days ago before Shaw had come home had been ridiculous and had hearts all over it. This one just said ‘Thank you.’ in Root's loopy scrawl. Shaw stared at it for a long second and then went back to cleaning.


End file.
